


The Affairs of Wizards

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossover, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8571139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Sherlock wanted, and got, Doctor Strange's attention.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'm crazy, but I felt like this needed to be done.

“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.’?” Stephen Strange stepped out of a portal and into the middle of 221B Baker Street.

The man sitting in the chair didn’t seem particularly impressed by his entrance and looked over his hands, steepled in front of him. “No, should I have?”

Strange raised an eyebrow and sat across from him. The other man reminded him of himself, though he couldn’t quite put a finger on why. His hands were long and elegant and he ignored a pang of jealousy. “You’ve been putting your nose into things you shouldn’t be.”

“I’ve been told that quite frequently,” said Sherlock.

“I don’t doubt it,” Strange gave him a small smile.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” asked Sherlock.

Strange frowned. “No. We’ve met before?”

“Florida. Miami to be exactly. April 1996.”

Strange blinked and thought about it. “Oh. Spring Break. Jack convinced me to take a break from my studies and go with him. And then he ditched me.”

It was all coming back to Strange and he stood up, moving towards Sherlock. “English kid, about my age. Picked him up in a bar. Or he picked me up. Not sure which, we’d both been drinking.”

Sherlock didn’t move as he was approached, and Strange reached out a hand to run it through his hair. “You were trying to get my attention, weren’t you?”

“Obviously.”

“Been busy, but I didn’t forget you either.”

Sherlock caught his hand and examined it. “You were very lucky to have survived this accident at all.”

“Yes,” said Strange, tugging his hand free.

“You don’t like being reminded, and yet it’s made you what you are.”

“Not the only thing.”

Sherlock stood smoothly. They were eye to eye. For a moment Strange wondered about the crackle of tension between them. And then Sherlock pulled him close and kissed him.

Strange closed his eyes, feeling Sherlock’s hands rest on his waist. It took him right back, to a noisy bar, twenty and alcohol tinged kisses.

“Let me take care of you this time,” whispered Sherlock, kissing him again as he guided him down the short hall to his bedroom.

Strange let himself be led. It felt right, somehow. Wouldn’t mean anything in the long term, but just a few minutes to leave all the worries aside would be bliss.

They broke apart when they reached the dim light of the bedroom, both of them stripping out of their clothes, as if, now that the course had been set, neither of them would do anything to slow or stop it. Stephen had a few other scars from the accident, and was well aware he wasn’t twenty anymore, but Sherlock too had clearly seen and dealt with some things.

At least this time they were both sober.

Sherlock closed the distance again, kissing him hungrily. Strange had forgotten what it was like when someone truly wanted you. He was surprised as he landed on his back on Sherlock’s bed, but reached up and pulled Sherlock back down when he started to pull away, kissing him in return with just as much hunger.

Moaning, Sherlock licked into his mouth. Strange found himself surrendering easily, as Sherlock’s hands moved across his body. It was almost as if he knew him like he knew himself.

Sherlock finally broke for air, reaching into his bedside drawer for lube. Strange watched him, reaching out to touch Sherlock’s hip and hesitating, knowing how rough his fingers were.

“It’s fine,” murmured Sherlock, opening the bottle and kissing him again.

Strange smiled into the kiss, letting his hands fall onto Sherlock’s hips. Sherlock took them both in hand and thrust them together, making them moan in concert. 

Sherlock took his hand from their cocks, coating his fingers and reached down to stroke Strange. Strange couldn’t help the groan that fell from his lips. It had been so long since anyone had touched him this way. Sherlock’s other hand reached up to run through his hair as he pushed Strange’s legs apart with his knees.

“Stephen,” murmured Sherlock, nibbling Strange’s throat.

Strange tangled his hands in Sherlock’s hair, parting his thighs for him. “Yes…. more.”

Sherlock pushed long fingers into him, mouthing at Strange’s collarbone. He didn’t know why he should feel such comfort here, in the arms of a man he’d barely had a drunken night with, but there was something familiar, about all of this. And it had been so long since Strange could surrender.

Slowly, Sherlock worked him open, covering him with kisses as he did so. Strange relaxed, feeling himself open up, satisfying himself with stroking Sherlock’s curls.

Finally, Sherlock judged him ready, slid on a condom and moved up, kissing Strange deeply as he pushed into him.

Strange moaned and wrapped his legs around him. Sherlock moved slowly, savoring, tasting every bit of Strange’s mouth. Moaning, Strange let his hands roam down Sherlock’s back, feeling scars that hadn’t been there so many years before.

They’d both been through some things, it seemed.

Sherlock worked a hand between them and Strange gasped as Sherlock’s hand wrapped around him. They moved together a little faster, a little more desperate, and yet, Strange wished the moment would last. 

There were ways to do that, but he’d learned his lesson about messing with time and he was pretty certain that using the Eye of Agamotto to extend an orgasm was against several rules of time and space.

No, this was small and fleeting and that was as it should be. Strange kissed Sherlock as they both climaxed, clinging to each other like lifeboats in the dark.

Sherlock pulled back first, binning the condom as he went to get something to clean them up. Strange stretched like a cat, feeling the soreness of unused muscles and not minding a bit. 

He smiled up at Sherlock as he came back. “I may need to visit London more often.”

Sherlock prowled back into bed and kissed his thigh. “Quite agreeable to me.”

“Good. And next time you don’t have to go swiping Artifacts to get my attention.” Strange reached over next to the bed and picked up a small, ordinary looking box.

Sherlock simply smiled and leaned in for one more kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! You can find me over on tumblr at merindab.tumblr.com


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